Coffee and cigarettes
by Chakra-incense
Summary: Her family was hard to understand, hell even she couldn't fully understand them. Mary-Jane Randle had finally had her breaking point and see's no fairness in life, but when a certain JD gets involved, is it for the better or worse. Dally/OC Steve sister fanfiction.


DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE OUTSIDERS OR ANYTHING ASSOCIATED WITH IT.

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><p>I tapped my chipped nails on the chair's arm rest impatiently. I honestly have no idea why I was still here. And I especially don't know why I was pretending to be her older sister. I told her it was a bad idea that she going to be caught, but no she just had to get herself in trouble for the 3rd time in a row this week. All I knew was this was not worth getting in trouble over. The room I was sitting in was small, yet intimidating; which was probably due to all the badges of the police hanging neatly in a frame on the white-painted wall. Police stations never sat well with me, but I was used to them by now. I almost never got in trouble, but my brother Steve; that was a different story. I sat in this exact same place maybe every once two weeks; sitting with my dad waiting for Steve to come out the room Angela was currently in.<p>

About 10 minutes later Angela came out with a scowl she wore too often while she was sober. She quietly closed the door and fast walked over to where I was sitting. I noticed something different about her expression as she neared me; an expression I have not seen since her brother Tim had been admitted into the emergency care center. I stood up to my 5'6 height and walked over to her, concern masking my face.

As I neared her she grabbed my arm and briskly walked out the room, and into the humid weather of Tulsa. When we were outside I yanked my arm from her steel grasp and faced. Her face showed worry and fear. Two expressions that looked foreign on her stained face. I opened my mouth to ask her what happened in there, but she cut me off with haste, " He's going to tell him." She spoke so fast it took me a minute to process what she said. When she saw my dumbfounded face she rolled her brown eyes and ran a hang through her short hair, "He's going to tell George, Jane." My mouth formed a 'o' as I let the words sink her.

George was her step-father, who was a rather nasty man. Not only a pervert, but also a disgusting drunk who drooled like a newborn baby. Angela was terrified of her step-father, not only did she admit that one fact about her fear towards him, but I could feel the fear radiating off of her every time I'm with her and we go near the man. Even I was scared of him, he was a big and intimidating guy. I never really talked to him, but if I do its just because he tells me its time to leave.

But I knew he could be a real jerk from what Angela tells me. I can never really go by what Angela tells me, but every time she tells me I can just tell she's telling the truth. I guess that's what happens when you've been friends for 8 years and counting.

I ran a hand through my hair and looked down at her 5'5 figure, "He can't really do anything if your mom if there, right?" I knew it was a stupid question, but it sounded rational. I knew her mother wouldn't care, as long as she had her meth and coke she was care-free.

She sighed and rolled her eyes; an annoying trait her had inherited from her mother, "Really? I'm fucked, Jane. If it was only Lisa then yeah I would be let off the hook, but this is _George_ we're talking about..." I bit my lip as tears welled up in her eyes. I never really did good at comforting people. I think that's because I had to go with my life dealing with no comfort. After my mother died my dad had become distinct and turned to drinking, and Steve had become meaner and developed a very low tolerance for sensitive people. So when people cry I just sit back awkwardly and pat their back.

I started walking to avoid any water works that were to come, " Yeah, I don't know what I was thinking..." I mumbled mostly to myself. Angela caught up to my brisk pace and pulled out a cigarette she must of hid in her boot from the police when they checked her for any illegal substances before taking her in the police station.

She took a drag before speaking, " I'm dead. I'm so dead." She stuck the cigarette between her red stained lips and rub her hands together in a nervous manner. I glanced over in her direction to see her eyes were no longer building up tears, but were still bloodshot from the lack of sleep she had had in the last past week. I wouldn't blame her. Tim had been put in the hospital for getting beat to a bloody pulp because of some money he owed to a couple of drug-dealers. At least that's what Angela says. Steve had only been put in the hospital once, and that was only because of his high blood pressure. I didn't sleep for 2 days straight.

I remained silent for the rest of the walk to my house, it was best to remain silent when she was mad or sad if you didn't want to be snapped at. As we neared my run-down house I turned to face her and gave her a brisk hug before cracking a small smile, " Try not to die, but for the record, ' I told you so'." I did tell her so, but she decided to be stupid.

She rolled her eyes, "Whatever, goodie-good." She checked her watched and sighed, "I gotta go, might as well get this shit over with." She patted me on the cheek and walked towards her house that was about 6 blocks away from my place. I felt guilt and worry hit my chest as I watched her retreat. She told me stories of her step-father, how he would beat her mother and her all the time. I couldn't deny anything because everyday at school there would be a new bruise.

I luckily never been beat, I've been spanked by Steve when I was 8 and he was 12 cause he thought he was in the right and felt mature, but I've never actually been beaten; I was thankful for that.

I turned towards my home and walked up the creaky steps that were cracked from old age. I opened the screen door and walked in the musty smelling house. I hated the way the house smelt. I wish we could at least get a candle or something to make the smell go away. The house was eerily quiet; which was odd because Steve and dad were usually arguing when I got home from school. I checked through the entire house, but no-one was here.

I heard the front screen open and slam close as I was in my cramped room. It was either dad or Steve. I secretly hoped it was the second choice. I walked to the living room and almost tripped on my shoes I had carelessly abandoned when I walked in. When I reached the living room I saw the back of a head sitting on the couch; watching T.V. I could never tell who it was. Steve and dad were beginning to look like each-other everyday. I hate it.

I neared the couch and plopped down, looking over at Steve. He glanced over at me and turned back to watching the news, " What are you doing home so early." He asked leaning back into the couch. I grimaced at his dirty work clothes, as the dirt and mud got all over the couch that I cleaned just yesterday. That was one thing I couldn't stand about him. He had no respect. Least dad held a little respect for me.

I looked over at him, "I get out of school at this time..." I slowly answered. Not a complete lie. I do get out of school at this time, but I left school a bit early with Angela so she could steal a pack of cigarettes. Which she told me she was going to buy. And look how that ended up going; not very good on her part.

I felt Steve shirt to look over at me, I avoided any eye-contact with me. Unlike him I was horrible at lying, and he could tell if someone was fibbing. especially me. He turned off the T.V so it was quiet in the house and all I could her was his breathing and the ticking of the grandfather clock our Aunt had given to us years back.

"Mary-Jane, I know you're lying. Not only because you're horrible at lying, but because I was in high school a year ago." I swallowed thickly as he used my full name. I hated when he did that. I tried to sink into the couch further to avoid his glare, that I have not come to look at yet. He waited for a reply when he got none he continued speaking, " You wanna be like me? Working your ass off in the blistering heat trying to support your family. You know I could have already hauled my ass to college, but I'm staying here because I give a damn about you and what you do with you life. Not because of Charlie or the gang. And you go and skip school." I feel guilt pang my heart as he spoke each word.

I opened my mouth to explain, but he cut me off, "Go to your damn room." He snapped, trying to control his anger. I tried again, but he cut me off with a yell, "NOW!" His shout practically shook the house and cut me off guard. But I jumped up and ran to my room, flopping on my bed.

This day keeps getting better and better...


End file.
